


Your Monster Husband

by ladyofreylo



Series: Reylo Poetry 2 [6]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Little Horror, Angst, F/M, Love Story, Love Story?, Monster Kylo Ren, Monsterfucking, Monsters, Reader-Insert, not much, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofreylo/pseuds/ladyofreylo
Summary: Just thinking about Kylo Ren as a monster--and a husband.  An odd little poem that has been trying to visit, lurking in the depths of my Reylo mind.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader
Series: Reylo Poetry 2 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134434
Kudos: 13





	Your Monster Husband

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by LexiRayne's amazing story Cryptid. Got me thinking about monsterhusbands.

Your Monster Husband

Waits, all red-eyed, with flashes and grunts amid the trees outside your--his--house.

He lurks there, a black-haired hulk, a shadow.

The trees creak a song of fear while he waits for you.

You open the door.

He lopes inside to stand in the shadows so you won’t see him.

Beautiful.

He scares himself and others.

Usually not you.

You turn down kitchen lights to a glow from burners alight.

He slides into a seat and growls soft, then louder.

The raw meat he sniffs and then rips.

Later, he rests on the floor, soft shaggy head in your lap.

With pointed teeth nipping your leg, just a scratch and a lick.

Perhaps two.

A little taste of blood for his nourishment.

He loves you.

He raises amber eyes and asks silently for more.

Teeth in your thigh, long finger between your legs.

You groan together as wife and beast.

Your Hideous Thing

Is a wondrous delight of grinning flesh and open mouth.

He loves you so much he could eat you plain with no salt, no sugar, no crispy coating.

And here he is, awake, staring, determined to wake you with sharp edges and feast upon you

Until you scream.

In love? Who knows?

Really.

It’s an honest question never settled in the brutality of hope that tomorrow will be better.

What does it take to love him and take his leather-clad hand on your throat?

Your Evil Creep

lies across the entrance to your bedroom door, you realize

He’s not always a devil

Except that he is today and perhaps tomorrow.

Always happy to see you trip over him.

You swoon at his feet, time and again.

You love him.

And invite him in when he asks to see you fall down.

You jerk with the rawness of loving evil.

Drop yourself into his thick arms.

He comes out of nowhere with haunted eyes

Watching you collapse again and again.


End file.
